Blogger?
by missshadowwings
Summary: A JohnLock one shot requested by my friend.


John groaned softly as he walked into the kitchen, rubbing his forehead. His sleep was full of nightmares and it caused the doctor to not get much sleep. He made his way into the kitchen, not bothering to look for his flatmate at the moment. He went into the kitchen to find tea already made, causing a small smile to appear on his face. He poured himself a cup before going out to the living room, sitting on the couch. He glanced over to the desk on the other side of the room, seeing Sherlock flipping through some papers. Probably a new case, John presumed.

"Another nightmare?" Sherlock spoke up, not bothering to look up from his papers.

"Yes..."

"Afghanistan?"

"No, something completely different," The blonde doctor muttered, shaking his head. He glanced down at his tea, unable to get the images out of his head. His flatmate, laying on the concrete, blood coming from his head, creating a puddle. 'Please Sherlock, just... don't be dead' He could hear himself saying.

John closed his eyes for a moment, feeling his chest tighten, before opening them again and glancing back over at the detective. "It was about your fake death,"

That definitely got the other's attention. He glanced up at the other, the corner of his mouth curling up into a slight, but obvious, smirk. "My death still bothers you?" He asked. "That was months ago,"

"Yes I'm aware of that,"

"Then why are you still bothered by it?" Sherlock questioned, raising an eyebrow in interest.

John looked down again at his tea. Did Sherlock really have to ask that? "You're my friend. Wouldn't you feel the same if one of your friends died?"

"I told you, I don't have friends," Sherlock replied, standing up from the desk and picking his violin, walking off and playing it.

John frowned slightly, watching his flatmate. If he didn't have friends, what did he think of him? It was almost too nerve wracking to ask. He cleared his throat slightly, "Then what am I, Sherlock?"

Sherlock paused his playing for a moment, turning back toward the blonde, a slight smile on his lips. "My blogger of course," he replied before continuing to play.

The doctor couldn't help but feel a stab in his chest. Why did he care how Sherlock felt about him? That's exactly what he was, right? His blogger? He looked down at his tea, unable to find words. As much as he would love to deny it, he knew what he wanted to hear from the other. He didn't just want to be his blogger, he wanted to be more. Be able to hold his flatmate close, caress those famous cheekbones, see what it was like to kiss those lips.

Noticing the other was looking down, and quite zoned out, Sherlock cleared his throat and placed his violin down on a table. "Watson,"

John glanced up, snapping out of his thoughts. "No, never mind Sherlock," he quickly spoke, guessing the other was probably going to say something about his quietness. He stood up and started to walk toward the kitchen.

"You're more than a friend Watson," Sherlock softly said, watching John.

Thinking the other was just messing with him, as he had did in the past for 'experiments', John felt like just shrugging it off. He paused before turning toward the darker haired man. "What are you talking about Sherlock?" She asked.

"Think," Sherlock simply said. He moved closer to the other, a slight blush visible on his cheeks. "Sometimes you just don't think Watson,"

Did Sherlock seriously mean what he thought he meant? John felt his heartbeat pick up some as the other got closer. "But you said you are married to your work," he replied, glancing up to look his partner in the eyes.

Sherlock leaned down close to John's face, smirking. "Perhaps I did..." He whispered.

The shorter man felt his face heat up some, seeing him move closer. "Sherl-" he went to say before getting cut off.

Sherlock moved closer, closing the inches between them and kissing the blogger briefly before pulling away with his famous smirk on his face. John, on the other hand, kind of just stood there in shock. He stood there for a moment, frantically trying to wrap his head around what just happened. "Sherlock?" He softly asked, finally able to talk.

"Yes?"

"This isn't just one of your experiments is it?"

Sherlock couldn't help but chuckle. True he couldn't blame the other for asking, but at the same time it was kind of funny to hear. "Why don't you figure that out for yourself, dear Watson?" He smiled, reaching up to caress the blogger's face gently.

A warm smile appeared on John's face as he heard the other. He looked him in the eyes, honestly amazed. Why is it now that Sherlock looked even more amazing than he did any other time?

The taller man leaned down and kissed him again, but this time it was a slow and long kiss. He kissed him sweetly, gently massaging the other's lips with his own. John felt his body tingle from the kiss, something he had not felt before with any of his recent dates. He reached up some to take a hold of his flatmate's jacket, holding him close as he kissed him back.

Several moments later the two parted, out of breath. John dropped his hands off the other's jacket and Sherlock smirked slightly, pleased with himself.

The taller man coughed softly before motioning over toward the sitting room where his desk was. "Well... I um... Have to get back to something..." He said before excusing himself and quickly leaving.

John nodded some and went back to quietly drinking his tea in the kitchen. Oh yes, this was definitely going to be interesting.


End file.
